


Personal Space (and the unfortunate lack thereof)

by HazelDomain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, crackfic, not taken seriously at all, werewolf knots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:34:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23660890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HazelDomain/pseuds/HazelDomain
Summary: The werewolf gasped, claws digging into Dean’s hips as he came. His already massive cock seemed to get even bigger, and Dean gasped despite his resolution to stay quiet and bear it out.“Oh,yeah,” the werewolf growled, and then, in a completely different voice, “yes.”The light changed, seeming to get lighter and darker at the same time. Like the sun had risen, but was shining through dark blue clouds.“Hello, Dean,” the werewolf said.Dean’s eyes snapped open.
Relationships: Dean/Castiel, Dean/Other
Comments: 23
Kudos: 211





	Personal Space (and the unfortunate lack thereof)

The werewolf gasped, claws digging into Dean’s hips as he came. His already massive cock seemed to get even bigger, and Dean gasped despite his resolution to stay quiet and bear it out.

“Oh, _yeah,_ ” the werewolf growled, and then, in a completely different voice, “yes.”

The light changed, seeming to get lighter and darker at the same time. Like the sun had risen, but was shining through dark blue clouds.

“Hello, Dean,” the werewolf said.

Dean’s eyes snapped open.

His face was still buried in his arms, and he was far too battered to try to turn around.

“What?” he murmured stupidly.

“Dean, I’m afraid I have some good news and some bad news.”

“... Cas?”

“Yes. It seems that your captor had a rather strict religious upbringing and was willing to submit to the will of the heavenly host. I may have been less than truthful with him regarding my personal motivations. Would you like the good news first?”

Dean risked a slight movement, grimacing as the werewolf’s ( _Cas’s???_ ) cock shifted inside him.

“Lay it on me, buddy,” he managed.

“The good news is, this werewolf appears to be working alone and now that I have overpowered him, this case can come to and end and you will be spared any further cruelties.”

Dean nodded a bit, grateful that the motion didn’t cause any dizziness.

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, Cas, but is there any way we could have this conversation once you’re….”

‘ _Out of me?’ How the fuck is this phrased?_

“That would be the bad news,” Cas said, and Dean could actually _hear_ him frowning. “It would seem that the canine aspect of this particular creature has caused it’s penis to knot, which means-”

“I know what it means,” Dean interrupted. He’d made a split second decision, weighing the risk of explaining his knowledge against the certainty of hearing Castiel explain it. Fortunately, Cas didn’t ask how Dean had come to know about canine cocks.

“I’m afraid that if I attempted to withdraw my penis at this time, it would be extremely painful.” The apology was evident in Cas’s voice. “With your other injuries, the wounds may be beyond my ability to heal. So it may be as much as half an hour before I am able to remove myself from your ‘personal space.”

Dean didn’t even open his eyes, letting his head rest on his arms.

“Cas. Did you just use finger quotations?”

“Yes. Was that inappropriate in the circumstances?”

Dean granted himself a small smile.

“No, buddy. It’s fine.”

“I can try to lower the vessel’s blood pressure, to see if I can make the penis soften faster.”

“Do what you gotta do, man.”

Dean buried his face in his arms, trying not to think about anything at all. Not the rigorous beating the wolf had laid on him. Not his clothes, which were laying ruined on the floor, or how the hell he was going to get out of here without them. Not the irrational fear of _claws_ while the werewolf fingered him open, or the blunt pain of the wolf’s cock.

Not the thought of blue eyes he used to distract himself, during.

 _Definitely_ not what he was going to say _next_ time he saw those blue eyes, now that their owner had seen him like this.

No, Dean was going to think about alcohol, and little white pills, and the way he’d have to mix them in order to make sure he remembered _nothing_ about this hunt.

“May I touch you?” Castiel asked, and Dean had to stop himself from snorting.

“Don’t you think that boat has sailed?”

“... meaning that our circumstances render the asking of the question past it’s point of usefulness?”

“You got it.”

“In some ways, yes. But considering the violence you endured at the hands of the vessel I currently possess, I thought you may appreciate at least a semblance of choice in the matter.”

Dean said nothing. Cas was right, of course, and he’d just been a bitch about it.

“I’d like to heal you, Dean,” Cas said quietly. Dean said nothing, just nodded.

Cas’s palm pressed against Dean’s back, just between his bare shoulders. Dean felt grace expanding outwards through his body, a cross between a shiver and the numbness of an IV painkiller. The lacerations on his side zipped closed, the bruising across his chest and belly vanishing without a trace. Even the slight throbbing in his head vanished.

“I thought you said I was hurt beyond what you could heal?” Dean asked, just as Cas collapsed against his back with a low grunt.

“Cas? _Cas?”_

“I’m fine,” the angel answered, lifting himself up on one shoulder. The table beneath them creaked in protest, too old and rickety for these kinds of activities. “The spell to find you took more of my grace than I expected. I thought I had enough left to…”

He let out a slow breath, warm against Dean’s back. The werewolf’s voice was too high, even with the gravelly undertone that Cas seemed to take with him everywhere. His long hair fell across his face, ends brushing across Dean’s skin.

“Don’t overdo it.”

Castiel didn’t answer, but Dean could feel an uncomfortable pressure as he tested the knot. It seemed, maybe, a little smaller?

Dean tried to come up with a joke, but came back utterly empty handed.

“Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome. I will always come when you call.”

Dean blinked.

“Call? I didn’t-”

His protests were cut short by the sound of tires on gravel. Dean froze.

“Another pack member? Civilian, maybe? Cas, can you reach any of the weapons-”

“It’s just Sam,” Castiel said, sounding relieved. “He was with me when we did the location spell, but I didn’t want to risk transporting both of us.”

And then, to Dean’s horror, he called out “Sam! We’re in here!”

“ _Are you insane?_ ” Dean hissed, trying to turn and failing. Cas’s hands were planted firmly on his hips, keeping him from pulling at the werewolf’s knot. “Cas, you are _inside me right now._ ”

The door splintered as Sam’s bulk hit it from the outside. It didn’t even take a second hit, falling to pieces at the first sign of conflict. Dean covered his face with his hands.

Sam froze, just inside the cabin. He scanned the entire interior, seeing only the two men in the middle of the room.

“Cas? Is that you?”

“Hello Sam.”

“I, uh. I brought your vessel. It’s in the trunk. Uh, is Dean…?”

“The _trunk?_ ” Dean said, his head popping up. “You put Cas in the _trunk_?”

“Well, I mean, technically,” Sam said, trying to look anywhere except his brother, “Cas is um, behind you, so, uh… do you guys need help, or…?”

“I’m afraid there’s nothing to do at this point but wait,” Cas said apologetically. “Unfortunately, in the act of ejaculating inside your brother, the werewolf-”

“Yeah, I got the context, Cas,” Sam said, his face going red at the same time. He let out a cough. “Do you want me to… shoot him? Or something? Would that help?”

Castiel frowned.

“I considered it. If you had a knife we could also manually deflate the penis.” Both brothers went pale, but Castiel didn’t seem deterred at the thought of this plan at all. “But I worried that a violent removal may ultimately be more traumatic than simply waiting, though I do understand that as far as personal space between friends is concerned, this is somewhat of a faux pas.”

Sam made a strangled noise in the back of his throat.

“Somewhat,” Dean agreed. “Do we have anything to drink?”

“I’ve got some water bottles in the backseat,” Sam said, seeming happy to change the subject.

“Sure, the _water_ gets to ride in the backseat,” Dean griped. “Anyway, I meant do we have anything to _drink?_ ”

“Uh.. bottle of red wine, I think?”

“Oh, fuck you,” Dean answered, dropping his face back onto his arms. His entire fucking life sucked.

“You should probably have some water, Dean,” Cas said. “I wasn’t able to replace as much of your blood as I’d like.”

“You were bleeding?” Sam said, surprised. “Are you okay? Should I get the med kit?”

Dean waved him off, trying to prop himself up on one arm and failing. The angle caused the knot to rub against something inside him, and he decided it would be less embarrassing to just lay on the table.

“Just… go get Cas out of the trunk. And leave your gun so I can kill myself.”

Sam rolled his eyes and turned, muttering something about ‘dee-stiel’ under his breath as he went. Dean gave him a half-hearted finger. Behind him, Castiel went unnaturally still.

“Dean… you should know, that I don’t regard any part of this as indicative of a romantic relationship between us.”

“Yeah, that kinda goes without saying, Cas.”

“Even the longing that allowed me to center the tracking spell was, I recognize, indicative of trauma rather than an actual desire for-”

_Back the fun bus up._

“What did you say?” Dean said, trying to turn. He was able to get a little further this time, but he barely noticed. “What longing?”

Cas’s eyes narrowed, confused.

“I already told you. I will always come when you call.”

“I wasn’t…” Dean searched for words. “I didn’t _call_ you, Cas, not during _this,_ there’s nothing about this that inspires any kind of _longing…_ what are you talking about?”

Castiel stared at him, the silence drawing out longer than could be considered comfortable, even for someone as awkwardly nonverbal as Cas.

“In any case,” Castiel said, finally. “The spell worked. And I recognize that everything that happened today was the result of… emergency circumstances.”

Dean frowned at Cas, trying to parse out what, exactly, the angel was trying to tell him.

He’d just opened his mouth to seek some kind of clarification, when the werewolf’s cock slipped out of him. Castiel immediately took three steps back, putting him safely outside Dean’s designated ‘personal space.’

Dean stared at him another second, jarred at the sight of Cas’s familiar expression written across such unfamiliar features.

“You should probably cut my head off now,” Cas said at last, nodding to where Dean’s blade still lay among his shredded clothes. “And I’ll meet you outside?”

“Oh. Right. Uh.” Dean turned back toward the ruined door. “Sam,you out there? I think my clothes are pretty much shredded.”

Sam didn’t answer, but a half full duffel came sailing through the doorframe a minute later.

“Thanks Sammy!”

Dean unzipped the bag, finding a pair of jeans and pulling them on. “I don’t suppose you’d consider vacating before I actually decapitate him?”

Castiel frowned.

“I’m not sure it’s safe. Once I disposess him, he’ll be able to attack you again.”

“I’ll be quick,” Dean promised.

Cas shrugged and closed his eyes, the room brightening as a familiar blue glow flowed out of the wolf’s mouth. His eyes opened, confusion registering for just a second, before Dean’s machete sliced cleanly through his neck.

“Fuck you,” Dean concluded, giving the torso a kick before hoisting his duffel onto his shoulder. Outside, he could see Cas sitting on the ground, his back against the Impala. He looked up at Dean, and smiled, and even from this distance Dean could see the blue of his eyes.


End file.
